Wednesday, August 11, 2010

You can go, you can start all over again. You can try to find a way to make another day go by. You can hide, hold all your feelings inside. You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry.

And maybe someday, we’ll figure all this out. Try to put an end to all our doubt. Try to find a way to make things better now and maybe someday we’ll live our lives out loud. We’ll be better off somehow, someday.

Now wait, and try to find another mistake. If you throw it all away then maybe you can change your mind. You can run, and when everything is over and done, you can shine a little light on everything around you. Man, it’s good to be someone.

And I don’t want to wait. I just want to know, I just want to hear you tell me so. Give it to me straight, tell it to me slow. ‘Cause sometimes we don’t really notice just how good it can get. So maybe we should start all over, start all over again.

Endless tears fall like rain tonight
as the hour grows dark and I
think of the bitter past
and the memories
you haunt.
Passing through
the silver mirror of fate,
the impossible reflection darkens
to let only ashes of who we used to be
seep through the endless cracks of sorrow.
I am bound to this world of pain by a tie that twists and cuts
my soul, leaving it to bleed crimson rivers
of agony and loss.
Here, I feel all the heartache I hold
manifest into darkened shadows,
gracefully dancing to a haunted lullaby
that only hold the visions of a past I left behind.

Saturday, August 7, 2010

I flinched, recognizing the voice. Why did he have to show up whenever I was cranky? I glanced up at him and nodded slightly. I didn’t want to be rude, but I wasn’t in the mood to be friendly either. I must be retarded. I wondered what he was doing there if he had a car. He couldn’t possibly be offering me a ride if he didn’t. That would just make him more retarded than I was. Besides, he never gets on the bus.

I looked at my watch. Damn bloody habit.

“In a hurry again, or you’re just running late?” He was either really dense, or he was on a mission unknown to men. Couldn’t he see that I wasn’t a very friendly morning person? I ignored him and moved slightly to the left. I prayed he would find someone else to annoy. I didn’t want to look at him lest he’d flash me that really cute smile of his again.

What the hell was wrong with me? He looked good, he smelled good (he was standing close enough) and he seemed nice. Oh right, of course. I was hormonal. Yet again. It had been a really crappy week so far. It wasn’t that anything exceptionally bad happened. I had just been really cranky all week. For reasons I couldn’t put my fingers on.

“I’ve been missing you badly.”

The thought that had eluded me all week suddenly crossed my mind. That was my heart talking. That must be it. I had been missing my magician all week. I sighed out loud.

“It saddens me to see someone like you looking so gloomy, so early in the day.” Oh geez. He was really annoying! Couldn’t he see that I just wanted to be left alone with my thoughts? And what the heck does ‘someone like you’ mean? The word ‘twitchy’ came to mind at once. I knew it didn’t make sense (why would he be concerned about a twitchy girl?), but I was beginning to get angry. I arranged my expression into what I hoped was angry, turned slightly so it was just enough for him to see it and said curtly, “bug off, will you.”

“Perhaps you could share what’s troubling you so. Who knows, I just might help.” God, he was irritatingly persistent.

When I looked up at him, he was smiling. But I was already angry by this point.

“You. You’re what’s troubling me. So please leave.”

It was all I could do not to yell at him. He looked taken aback. Probably wasn’t expecting such a vile response from me. But I wasn’t about to let him make me feel bad about it. He was asking for it. He could’ve seen it coming a mile away. I continued to glare at him until he muttered, “I apologise.”

I apologise! Who says stuff like that around here? Saying “I’m sorry” wouldn’t do for him? Ugh. I could feel my annoyance flaring up and getting out of hands. He started leaving right when I saw the bus coming from around the corner of my block. The bus stopped about 2 feet in front of me and I got on quickly. I flashed my pass at the driver who smiled slightly and then walked briskly to the back of the bus. I took a seat right by the window and for some reason felt compelled to look outside. He was standing there looking at me, giving me a little wave. Holy molly. Was that a guilt trip he was attempting?

Good grief. I’d just about bit his head off earlier, didn’t I. But like I said, he was asking for it. I sighed again. And got lost in my thoughts- my missing magician.

Just as the bus was leaving, I chanced a last glance at him. He was wearing a white shirt with a really curious writing sprawled at the front:

Friday, August 6, 2010

“Hmmm... well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the dementor lowers its hood only to use its last and worst weapon.”

“What's that?”

“They call it the Dementor's Kiss,” said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile.

“It's what dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and—and suck out his soul.”

Harry accidentally spat out a bit of butterbeer.

“What—they kill —?”

“Oh no,” said Lupin. “Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no... anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever... lost.”

Thursday, August 5, 2010

“The bus is always late at this hour,” said a voice behind me. I almost jumped. Actually, I did jump. So I got really annoyed even though he sounded cute and I knew he was just being helpful. Or something. I ignored him and instinctively looked at my watch again. I hated this habit. It made me look twitchy. Who’d want to date a twitch? Unintentionally, I sighed out loud.

For some reason, Mr Nice Guy took it as a sign to further extend his niceness to me.

“Are you all right? You look disturbed.” I was sure he really was just being nice. But I was already annoyed at him for making me jump earlier.

Without looking at him I replied, “yes, I am. You’re disturbing me.”

“I apologise.” He sounded really sorry and I felt bad for being snappy. And now I felt even more annoyed at him for making me feel bad about being annoyed with him. I moved away.

08:00 a.m.

5 minutes passed by in peace and quiet when suddenly the same voice made me jump a mile. Again. I wanted to smack his head with my shoes by then. I was also really annoyed for being so edgy this early in the morning.

“You look like you really need to be somewhere fast. I can give you a ride.”

Oh how cute. First annoy me and then offer me a ride. Maybe I look dumb too, in addition to twitchy. Great. The thought got me really annoyed by then, so I turned to my left and gave him a glare. He was grinning. And damn him. Did he have to be so hot? I got even more annoyed by this, but was caught off guard by his smile so I hesitated for 3 seconds before saying, “maybe you can mind your own business and stop annoying me.”

“I didn’t mean to annoy you. Just trying to be nice, since you look like you need help.” He didn’t seem to be affected (or maybe he really was just dense) by my snappy responses.

This annoyed me even further. So I looked at him again and said, “go away. I’m fine.” He was still grinning. Damn him!

When he didn’t seem to want to move away, I did. And right about then, the bus arrived. Without so much as a glance back at him, I got on the bus and took a seat on the other side so I didn’t have to look at him.

I felt like an idiot. Why’d I have to be so cranky in the morning? He was hot, and he seemed nice too. I could be dating him. But no, I had to let my hormones got to my head first. Great.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

..so loud it felt as if the world was tumbling down. I felt a tiny tug on my toes and looked down to find a new kitten playing with them. Biting them as if they were food. Did I rot in my slumber? As if sensing my consciousness, it looked up at me and I almost fell in love right then. Except it suddenly looked at the space beside me. The empty space.

Gently, I laid down my right palm on the spot where I thought his heart would have been placed. Cold. Just like the evening breeze blowing softly through my window. My window? This wasn’t my room. I didn’t even remember whose was it.

I wondered what time it was.

It wasn’t that I needed to know. The sun was already setting, so I could pretty much guess what time it was. But it had became a habit. When I got my heart broken 6 months ago, my foremost reaction was to look at my wristwatch to find out what time it was. Instinctively, I raised my left hand to look at the time. No watch. I looked around the room but couldn’t seem to locate it. I’d forgotten what happened to it before I went to sleep. I wondered if I’d slept through the week.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Someday it will heal, but it will forget. It's inevitable and you don't come back from something like that. I'll be here still, but you will no longer be my person. So if I promise to play your song, will you give me my dance today?

"large snowflakes flutter through the night.. what will you wish for?"

the Detention

I don't own a jar. I've got a bunch of thoughts filling my head. But I can't sort them out.
There's a story written here, if you know how to read it. Look out for the leprechaun, the magician, and me.
Here is where I write them down.